


correspondence

by ivylikeveins



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Awkward Flirting, Complicated Relationships, Flirting, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Hinata goes to Aoba Johsai, Jealousy, Love Triangles, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Porn With Plot, Sexual Humor, Sexual Tension, Smooth Kageyama, compliments, like a LOT of flirting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:00:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23544280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivylikeveins/pseuds/ivylikeveins
Summary: In which Karasuno (and therefore Kageyama) has got a practice match with Aoba Johsai, Hinata is gorgeous and unfortunately, Oikawa is very aware of it, too.Well. Kageyama is never the guy to back down from a challenge.(Especially when the reward dangling before his greedy eyes isthisalluring.)
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Comments: 93
Kudos: 316





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> can autocorrect please FUCK OFF with replacing HINATA with HINT every time I try to use his proper noun I AM THIS CLOSE TO LOSING IT
> 
> okay that being said, here’s the very serious introduction:
> 
> *evil laugh* HAHA I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THE CONVERSATIONS IN THIS I HOPE U ENJOY IT TOO!! :D
> 
> also, I figured there aren't many fics with a flirty/smooth/confident Kageyama written out there, so I had to take matters into my own hands >:)

Fuck his life. 

His day started adequately, really. He went jogging first thing in the morning; feeling some sort of _lightness_ in his chest. Like he had nothing that stuck to his ankles to pull him back, keep him in place, and Kageyama had felt like he was free to break free from the swamp he continuously felt like sinking, slowly, _torturously._ The wind that licked his face burning with rushing blood due to his exercise and pushing his hair back was a delight, too. 

He jogged until he reached the gym of his college, volleyball practise early in the morning because of the way his classes had been piled up and only ended late in the afternoon -around eight pm. So, at exactly seven fifty-five am, he had set his first ball of the week to Tanaka. 

Even Tsukishima wasn’t bitching at him for no reason. Which, what the fuck, did Christmas come early, or something?

And then, it happened. 

“We’ve got a practise match with Aoba Johsai this afternoon.”

Kageyama just gaped at Daichi, mouth hung open like an idiot and eyes blank with disbelief. 

“And by this afternoon, I mean in about, like, two hours. You can start practice now.”

The last thing he wanted to do today was to see Oikawa’s fucking face staring at him with that cocky, punchable way that made Kageyama want to gag or just fucking _punch his face right in the middle._ Or both, really; he felt generous today after all. He groaned, burying his face deep into his hands, sweaty palms cold against his nose and cheeks. “Oh, fuck my life.”

“What was that, Kageyama?” Oh, allow Kageyama to translate the sweet, caring question lovingly asked by Daichi: _Hm? Say that again? Yeah, didn’t think so. Fucking brat._

Thank God, Tsukishima ran to his help; clarifying what Kageyama meant with his too-loud expression of displeasure.“His majesty wanted you to fu-“

Kageyama let out an uncharacteristically high squeak in panic, head shooting up from behind his palms to face Daichi. “Nothing! Sorry!”

No, seriously. Run him over with a truck. 

He took his sweet time changing into his jersey and shorts, postponing facing Mr Dickface (aka Oikawa) as much as he could. Maybe because of that, when he got out of the changing rooms and entered the gymnasium, he was the last one to come and the other team had already started doing their warm-ups. 

Kageyama couldn’t help but think that they looked like a bunch of seagulls with their white uniforms and their names written in minty, baby blue as he sat down on the bench next to Tsukishima himself with his sneakers in his hands.

He was tying his shoes without saying anything, Tsukishima’s bitching a blur to his ears when he spotted a very contrasting vibrance in the crowd on the other side of the net. 

_Well. What have we got here._

He was so small that he almost couldn’t be seen standing behind Kindaichi’s giraffe-like form. He wore the cutest, biggest, whitest grin Kageyama had ever seen and was constantly running around; checking on people, checking the volleyballs, just running to _move._ His very -and he means _very_ \- bright-coloured hair swayed and flew around like roaring, red flames every time the small guy hopped around, skipping steps instead of walking like a decent human being and _just how much energy did this guy have? Kageyama_ was getting tired of watching him continuously hop around like that instead of him; the guy seemed to have endless stamina. 

Speaking of, when Kageyama (unavoidably) gave the guy’s form a once-over (come on, he was a man), his eyes pleasantly spotted a pair of strong, shapely thighs thick with muscle (and a nice piece of ass -I mean, what?) and decided that, yes, this guy, indeed, must be jumping around a _lot._

 _No one_ gets thighs and an ass like _that_ jus by working out and squatting.

Which made sense, Kageyama guessed, given the guy’s (adorable) form he figured he must do _something_ to fill out his lack of height. Though, Kageyama highly doubted the possibility of the guy having a position to attack. He was more likely to be a libero. 

He knew he wasn’t being discreet with his ~~gawking eyefucking~~ staring, and when the pretty guy caught him and their eyes met, he didn’t blush and run away like Kageyama thought he would. 

Instead, he raised a challenging eyebrow, asking _what the fuck do you want?_

Kageyama’s head perked up in interest. 

“Who’s that?”

“How the fuck am I supposed to know.” Tsukishima dismissed the question ever so elegantly, switching his usual black glasses to his thick-framed sports ones. “Probably some new libero, look at how tiny he is.”

“He’s cute.” Was it getting a little hot in here? Yup, that was definitely sweat layering thinly on top of the skin where his forehead met his hairline. Better do something about that, huh. Quickly.

“Oh, don’t do it,” Tsukishima argued exhaustedly next to him without fire, having had enough of Kageyama’s shit this past couple of years and knowing damn well what he’s about to do as Kageyama lifted the corner his shirt all the way up to his forehead to (supposedly) wipe the sweat pooling there; _accidentally_ flashing everyone in the whole gym (although aimed at a specific individual) a _very_ generous view of his abdominal muscles in the process and maybe even pectorals if he’s lucky. Tsukishima groaned. “Oh my God.”

“You know that literally every guy in this court has abs, right.” The lanky blonde pointed out blankly as if it was obvious; eyes judging and his constant annoyed tone not wavering in the slightest. “You’re not special, unfortunately. We’re sports players.”

“Well, I know how to show off and own them.” Kageyama chewed on the sippy tip of his water bottle, toying with it while his eyes caught Seijoh’s usual libero with short hair staring at his way before flushing a dorky red and quickly snapping his head to face elsewhere. “It’s all about confidence. Besides, bottoms love that shit. See.” 

Tsukishima scrunched his nose, grimacing at Kageyama’s choice of words. “You’re so gross. Stop thinking with your dick and actually use your brain, for once. It’s not only there to release endorphins, you know. You’re supposed to have _some_ thought process going on.”

“Not my fault you’re this lanky virgin who can’t come unless, um, I dunno,” Kageyama paused to think a bit, trying to find a suitable insult but literally nothing coming to his mind, “you’re sniffing a physics textbook or something. Weirdo.” 

“…I’m not a- was that supposed to be a roast?” He let out a deep, mocking laugh -not because he was enjoying Kageyama’s elite humour, but at the idiocy of the whole situation. “You retard.”

“Shut up. I’m leaving. Bye.”

With that, he left his water bottle aside and stood up, starting to walk towards his position for the practice game. He rolled his eyes with annoyance when he noticed the way Mr Dickface had already positioned himself, stance tall and lanky; meaning Kageyama had to stand next to him -or worse, _converse_ with him- until the game started. 

Fuck his life, really.

“Oh, it was just your grumpy-ass face.” Oikawa spared him a single glance from the corner of his stupid eyes as he approached the net, defined eyebrows shot up in cocky exclamation. 

“Obviously it’s me.” Kageyama greeted him back, as they got in their parallel positions as setters on either side of the net. ”Who the fuck did you expect.”

“Hm. You can’t blame me for wanting a hot piece of ass next to me while I play,” Oikawa shrugged. “You know, like your other setter. The pretty one with light hair. Sugar, was it?” Kageyama watched him breathe out an exhausted, overly exaggerated sigh. _Fucking drama queen._ “I’m tired of having to see your ugly face right next to me every time we play. Do us all a favour and go fuck off, honestly.”

“Choke on my dick, Oikawa,” Kageyama spat.

“Bold of you to assume you’ll even reach my throat,” Oikawa sang, mocking tone hidden beneath the playful cover. It made Kageyama want to punch his fucking face. Right in the middle. Really, really hard.

 _And watch the blood explode from his slender nose in ruby splashes -creating a beautiful contrast to his fair skin and feel the satisfying sting on his own knuckles-, most definitely broken, and his upper lip as well, if he’s lucky with his aim which he_ always _is-_

Yeah. Wouldn’t that be a sight.

“Yeah, no. On second thought, I don’t think you’ll choke either. Bitches get used to all the gagging, huh?” No, he was going to keep his calm this time. Words hurt more than punches.

_Sometimes._

Oikawa breathed out a mocking, unfriendly scoff; cold and depreciative, but said nothing else. 

_Like this time._

Kageyama watched the way the pretty ginger guy’s (also pretty) thighs flexed as he squatted to (horribly) receive a ball spiked by Iwaizumi and with a high-pitched yelp, toppled back with the force of it. Kageyama snorted to himself when he saw the way the fiery mess of a hair become even more of a bird’s nest from the impact. 

“Who’s the new guy.”

“Oh, you mean Shorty? New middle blocker.” Kageyama snorted, disbelieving. The guy was like, what, five-three and a half and the height of the net they were playing with was seven feet eleven. Yes, Oikawa was an asshole, but he definitely wasn’t an idiot to put that small of a guy on the front line as a blocker. 

Oikawa continued, not really giving a shit on what Kageyama thought.

“Might not seem like it, but spikes like a motherfucker. Aim’s not good, though, so if I were you I’d watch the back my head. Pretty cute, too.” 

“Hm.”

“Also, mine.” Kageyama’s eyebrows shot up with surprise; the sudden information like a slap to his normally stoic face to leave it dumbly gaping. 

He was definitely not expecting that. 

“Really? Damn.” Well. The little tangerine was apparently off-limits. Even though he respected this (as he should) and decided to back off the second he found out he was, in fact, _not_ single, Kageyama couldn’t help but judge his decision with his whole heart. Like, imagine being this gorgeous of a man and then picking Mr Dickface over there out of all people. 

_Damn it._

_Oh well._

Him dating Oikawa did not change the fact that Kageyama won’t be trying to get close and get to know that little piece of sunshine every chance he gets, though. Not in the slightest.

There was something so… _attractive_ in the guy’s energy. As if a magnet, the atmosphere around him reached to Kageyama like a burning grasp; grabbed him from deep within his soul and forcibly dragged his sorry ass so that Kageyama was the closest thing to him in a two-metre radius. Kageyama ached to get burned to ashes with that desire. 

“Not yet, but will be. He’s a stubborn little thing.” Kageyama paused at Oikawa’s (rather fond?) answer.

_Oh._

Apparently, that’s not the case, after all. It wasn’t that the little ginger thing over there with a blinding smile was taken, but Oikawa’s douchey ass was being extremely possessive of him. 

His smug smirk involuntarily found his face and slowly stretched between his cheeks again, almost victorious before even getting a chance to play (not the volleyball game), and Kageyama turned his head to face a direction other than Oikawa to hide it.

He decided not to comment on the weirdly possessive description Oikawa just gave of a (very beautiful) man he _definitely_ did not get a say on. Kageyama cleared his throat to wipe the victorious and smug look off his own face before facing the other setter again and changed the subject.

“What happened to Iwaizumi?” 

“Iwa-chan? Pfft, don’t be ridiculous.” Oikawa let out a breathy chuckle, sickly sweet and undoubtedly fake. Kageyama almost gagged. “Guess I’m into the smaller type as well, huh, after all. Calls me the Great King, too, by the way.” The way Oikawa stared at the (adorable) little guy while he tried to carry more than two volleyballs at a time, dazed and dreamily fond _really_ pissed Kageyama off for some reason. “Lowkey adorable.” 

“Well, _if I were you_ I’d watch out, dickface,” Kageyama spat, mimicking what Oikawa just told him because yes, he _had_ decided to play it cool with the asshole’s possessive way of addressing the ginger, but _come on,_ you did _not_ talk about someone who wasn’t dating you like _that,_ “because he’s the hottest little thing I’ve ever seen.” 

“Ah, I’d love to see you try.” Oikawa challenged him; cold hazel eyes meeting freezing tides.

Kageyama didn’t break eye contact, his face deadly serious and the air cold and thick around them, almost like electricity crackling with the intense ozone during the calm before the storm. 

Their little staring contest continued until a vibrant splatter of reddish-orange blurred at the bottom right corner of Kageyama’s eyes and almost immediately, Oikawa broke eye contact and refocused his full attention to the incomer; face now all soft and gentle -no trace left of the threatening sharpness directed Kageyama’s way just a second ago. 

From the other side of the net, Kageyama watched; now that the ginger was the closest to him than he had been since Kageyama laid his eyes on him, he could finally fully appreciate him. So he stared without shame.

The sweetest face he had ever seen with soft edges; small chin and a button nose paired with two soft eyebrows. Warmest amber eyes with the slightest tug on the corners, giving them a stunning elegance. High cheekbones and a pair of full, soft, ruby lips but a strong jaw at its full masculinity. 

He was truly beautiful. 

“Oikawa-san? Just wanted to let you know that we’ve, um, finished warming up.” The ginger softly spoke to Oikawa without sparing Kageyama a single glance, which shouldn’t have been as annoying as it was. Especially when the corners of his eyes crinkled with his pearly smile too big for his small face like that. “Are you okay? You seem a little tense.”

Oikawa flashed a smile with the same vibrance, and Kageyama got the urge to shield his eyes on instinct because of the overwhelming… _brightness_ before him.“Sho-chan! Good job, I wouldn’t expect any less of you.” Kageyama just watched the exchange from the other side of the net, involuntarily clenching his teeth when the other setter draped a muscular arm around the shorter’s shoulders, pulling him in closer. “Don’t worry, I’m just catching up with an old friend. This is Kageyama.”

“What’s up?” Kageyama winked at the guy as a greeting, and let his smirk pull the corners of his lips up and reveal his teeth obnoxiously when the ginger obviously pinked on his cheeks a bit. 

“Oh! Yes, h-hi, hello, um. I’ll go start the spike warm-up, very nice to meet you!” With that, he basically flew, quickly unravelling himself from Oikawa’s arm and leaving him frozen on the spot by the sudden movement, and ran towards the rest of his team.

Oikawa swiftly pulled himself together, lowering his dumb arm still in the air and this time when he faced Kageyama again, he was dead serious. No mocking, no laughing. Just pure _chill._

“Back off, you narcissistic asshole, and don’t even think about coming near him.”

Kageyama smiled at the snarl; slow and venomous. “As you please, your _great_ highness”

Aoba Johsai won the practice match.

And, to be completely honest, Kageyama couldn’t care less.

Because Kageyama witnessed something so much different and advanced and faster and overall _superior_ throughout the whole match. 

It happened when he realised that whenever the ginger missed a spike, it wasn’t any of his faults; it was merely that Oikawa’s sets just _couldn’t_ keep up with his stamina and terrifying speed.

He realised, with his breath caught in the back of his throat, that the number ten of Aoba Johsei was _something else._

He did not know what that _something_ was, but it sure as hell was not anything Kageyama had ever laid eyes on. 

So, he decided to find out.

“Hey.” The guy jumped in surprise when Kageyama approached him, breath heavy and hair sweat-slick. “What’s your name?”

“H-hinata Shouyo.”

 _Hinata Shouyou._ “Do you mind if I show you what a real setter is like?” Hinata’s pretty eyes doubled in size at the bold remark, deep amber staring into Kageyama’s soul. Kageyama smiled, slow and sly and _daring._ He continued. “Mr Dickface over there seems to can’t keep up with you. I was thinking I could give it a try?” 

A second passed. And then another. 

Finally, Hinata nodded; a smirk of his own forming in his face that made Kageyama’s breath catch.

“If you’re all words no bite, I’m gonna be really pissed.”

So, their after-practice-match-practice started.

“Your concentration is shit, by the way.” Kageyama informed Hinata on his observations throughout the practice match while he set the ball as high as it would go.

“Fuck you, actually. My concentration is very well, thank you very much.” Hinata grinned as the satisfyingly loud smack of another nice spike hit echoed inside the empty gymnasium.

Kageyama smiled at the opportunity presented before him.

“Fine, then. Who would you fuck in Seijoh?” Kageyama set the ball high again, hiding his smirk.

“W-What?!” Hinata’s eyes shot wide open, and he fell to the side with the ball, startled by the sudden (and peculiar) question Kageyama just asked. “Ow.” He scrunched his face with pain, the grimace messing up all of his facial muscles. _Cute._

“See. Trash.” Kageyama bent down to retrieve the fallen volleyball.“You need to be able to not get affected by anything.” He offered a hand to pick Hinata up from the ground who was just sat there, pouting with his arms crossed offendedly over his chest.  
“That’s not fair, I wasn’t prepared!” He took Kageyama’s offered hand, nonetheless.

(Kageyama couldn’t help but notice how small Hinata’s hand felt beneath his calloused grasp; hot and adorably soft.) 

“For what, a question?” He pulled Hinata up with more force than necessary, just to see the small ginger gasp softly and falter while he tried to balance himself, arms raised on either side of his thin body like a bird. Amber eyes glared (with no actual fire behind) and huffed at Kageyama with annoyance. Kageyama’s grin stretched across his lips again, genuine. 

“You should always be prepared. Concentration is key, don’t let anything distract you. Maybe we should work on that for a little bit.” 

“Okay, yeah. Makes sense,” Hinata nodded, soft brows furrowing in serious determination and got in receiving position again, thighs thickening with his squat. 

Kageyama cleared his throat (he did _not_ check him out -even if he _did,_ it was to make sure his form was correct, yeah, scientific purposes like that) and sent the ball flying Hinata’s way. “So, let’s try again. Who would you fuck in Seijoh?”  


“Hm. Oikawa.” This time he didn’t hesitate to answer in between spikes.

“What. Are you serious?” Kageyama grabbed the spiked ball mid-air to have a short pause. “Low standards, even for you.”

“Why? He’s hot. Nice abs. Tall, too.” _Literally everyone is taller than you,_ Kageyama wanted to say. Though, he doubted the small ginger liked and slash or accepted commentary on his height with joy. Instead, he ran a hand through his sweaty hair as a habit before setting the ball flying. 

“Hm. Fair enough, I guess. If you’re into guys with the personality of a literal trash can.” Hinata giggled; the soft, melodic sound warming his chest and making Kageyama reciprocate with a smile. His smile turned into something with a sharp mocking edge at what he said next; “He’s small, by the way.”

“It’s not really about personality.” Hinata started explaining his reasoning (without paying any mind to the additional information Kageyama gave him); his fast-paced spikes not faltering in the slightest while he spoke. “You see, _I’d let him fuck me,_ take his time and enjoy himself, and then _bam._ I’m the new wing spiker.” He hit the ball specifically hard and sent it shooting to the other side of the court as emphasis, the satisfying _bang_ hitting the walls and echoing inside the empty gymnasium. “Buh-bye Iwaizumi. That’s how it works.” 

Kageyama smirked. “Nice. Sounds like a plan.” _He likes to take it. Not a surprise, honestly. Judging by his energy, probably nice and fast._

It’s alright. Kageyama could do fast. And he’ll sure as hell do it nicely, too. 

“Also, how do you know? You think you’re packing, to call him small?”

 _I certainly am, indeed._ “They used to be a thing with Iwaizumi. Pictures got leaked.”

Hinata gasped, eyes doing that ridiculous thing again where they double in size. “No way!”

“Yeah.” Kageyama’s voice smoothly dropped lower in pitch without him meaning to, lids getting heavier and pupils dilating in his offering. “As for your other question, wanna find out?”

“I’ll pass.” The ginger spiker hummed after a second of thought, his nose scrunching in disinterest. _Cute._

Kageyama shrugged. _We’ll see about that._ “Shame. Seriously, though, if you wanna get fucked, he’s not the guy for you. He takes dick up his ass.” 

Hinata gasped, clearly not expecting him to so casually mouth off about Oikawa’s sex life and preferences like that.“Kageyama!”

“What?” Kageyama felt a laugh bubbling up from his stomach through his chest at Hinata’s hilarious reaction, though he suppressed and pushed it deep down. He needed to appear cool. “It’s true, you gotta find someone who’ll give it to you good."

Hinata’s eyebrows shot up in interest, knowing where this is going. “Like you?”

“Exactly,” followed by a wolfish, sly smile. 

Kageyama didn’t miss the way Hinata’s pink tongue darted out ever so slightly to wet equally, if not redder, pink lips before changing the subject. “Why do you hate him so much?”

“I dunno, probably ‘cause he’s got the most punchable fucking face in the whole world,” admitted Kageyama with utmost genuineness. _Wow,_ he thought in pleasant surprise, _it felt really good saying that._ Almost as satisfying as picturing it happen in his mind every time he saw the asshole. “Him hitting on you helps, too.” 

Hinata paused, not jumping to hit the next ball Kageyama had set. Kageyama raised a brow at the way the volleyball hit the wooden ground and bounced once, twice, three times before stopping. “No, he’s not.”

“Is so, you’ve gotta be blind to not see it.” _Was Hinata being serious?_

“He’s way out of my league.” There was something in the way Hinata didn’t look at him while he said that and instead bent down to get the ball, that made an uneasy feeling rise deep in Kageyama’s chest.

“That’s bullshit,” he sputtered, clearly pissed the fuck off. “First, you’re fucking gorgeous, _you’re_ out of _his_ fucking league. Second, remember the time I was talking with him? Just before the practice game started?”

Hinata turned his head to face him again, tangerine curls bouncing with the movement and big chocolate-brown eyes wide in anticipation. “Next to the net? Yeah, why?”

“He told me to fuck off ‘cause, apparently, you’re his. Called me a narcissistic asshole, too.”

Hinata gasped. “I don’t believe it.” He looked betrayed (which made Kageyama’s stomach tighten in satisfaction), eyebrows shot all the way up his hairline and frowning at the same time (Kageyama had no idea how he managed to do that), cheeks ablaze, jaw hung open and Kageyama only then realised just how _expressive_ the boy before him was; with his mimes all over the place every time his nerves signalled the smallest taste of emotion through his system. 

Kageyama felt this dangerous urge threaten his insides to break free; a roaring flame ablaze to find out just how many different combinations of those faces he could pull out of the ginger. 

He felt _high off the thrill._

“I know, right? Unbelievable. I’m not nearly as self-centric as his flat ass.” Fuck. His voice came out way breathier than he would’ve liked. 

“No, not that, you idiot. Why would he tell you that I’m _his_ , or some bullshit like that? That’s not true,” Hinata argued, voice high in distaste and huffing his indignation. 

“Guess he likes objectifying his boyfriends, too.” Fuck it, if there was any way Kageyama could make Hinata despise Oikawa, he would selfishly try his best to turn it into reality. He was quick to add, “Which is, for your information, something I’d _never_ do.”

“Who said anything about boyfriends?” A teasing smile pulled the corners of Hinata’s full lips up, shyly revealing perfect, pearly teeth. 

“I just did.” _Come on, take a hint._

“Is this a date? Are you asking me out?” Hinata laughed.

“Why not? You free tomorrow for dinner?”

Hinata shook his head side to side in an unbelieving manner, still giggling. “How long has it been since we met, like, two hours? Three?”

“It’s been enough for me to take you out to dinner, I think.” Then Kageyama paused, allowing his cocky flirting persona to peel off just for a second before he continued, voice serious and understanding. “Unless you really don’t want to, though. It’s cool.”

“I’ll think about it.” Hinata flashed a toothy grin, clearly having too much fun at the thought of being asked out for some reason.

“So it’s not a no?”

“It’s probably going to be a no, I just don’t want to hurt your feelings by rejecting you this instant.” Hinata turned his back and grabbed his water bottle lying on the ground, walking towards the water fountains without checking if Kageyama was following. 

(Of course he was.)

Kageyama jogged next to Hinata to catch up with him, still breathing rather heavily due to their practice. “Aw, how sweet. Don’t lie to yourself, it’s gonna be a yes. I can feel it.”

“How so?” Hinata murmured and uncapped his bottle and pressed it to the mouth of the water fountain to start filling it up, still -very annoyingly- not looking at Kageyama.

Kageyama leaned his back to the wall next to the fountain, crossing his arms over his chest (and tried not to overshadow the other guy with his height hence kept his distance; he was just ridiculously small) before continuing pretentiously. 

“Tall, hot, nice abs,” he counted with his fingers. "Three things you said about Oikawa that you like, and I’ve got them all.” 

Hinata dropped his head to face the ground with an (embarrassed?) laugh, soft-looking curls bouncing vibrantly again before changing the subject. “What about you, who would _you_ fuck? From Seijoh, I mean.”

“You.” His answer was instant, tone manifesting blank transparency.

Hinata let out an exasperated sigh, giggling at his bluntness. “Except me, you dumbass.” 

“Hm.” Kageyama thought for a second as he followed Hinata who had started walking back towards the court. “Shinji.”

A snort escaped the small ginger’s button nose. “Of course you would.”

Kageyama frowned in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “It means,” Hinata picked up the ball and threw it right in the middle of Kageyama’s face, giggling at the way he caught it in the last second before breaking his nose. “stop playing around and toss like you mean it. I’m getting bored.”

Something burning and primal roared deep inside Kageyama as a response to the challenge. He raised a brow. “As you wish.” 

He doesn’t think time exists once he steps foot into the gymnasium; that breaching the barrier of entity’s existence is the moment where time becomes liquid or maybe even disappears into thin air, he wouldn’t know. 

All he knew was the sun was up, shining and warm when they started their after-practice-match-practice with Hinata and now the golden rays of sunshine reaching through the windows were absent. The gymnasium was only illuminated by the fluorescent lamps hanging from the ceiling. 

Kageyama realised this only when Hinata seemed like he weighed a tad bit more; as if the pull of gravity had increased and would not let Hinata jump as high as he used to. 

“Can’t keep up?” Kageyama smirked, knowing damn well there was no way in hell the guy would admit his exhaustion. “I can slow down for you if you want.” He knew that was a pretty douchey thing to say if the guy really was tired, but Kageyama wanted to see how much Hinata could force his limits.

“Don’t you dare,” Hinata spat, chest rapidly heaving up and down, hair sweat-slick and cheeks an alluring red from (very obvious) exhaustion. Although Kageyama was in the same state, he huffed in satisfaction; sent the ball flying full force without even checking if the ginger had started approaching. He aimed for his hands in the air and-

_SMACK._

And then, Hinata’s right hand was just _there._

“Holy shit.” Kageyama gasped, staring at Hinata with huge eyes; the forgotten volleyball hitting the ground with three consecutive slaps in the background.“How did you do that?”

Hinata raised his face from where he was crouched, trying to catch his breath. “What do you mean?” “That was a zero-pace. Nobody’s been able to hit it from me before. How could you do it?” Kageyama explained; the words pouring out of his lips quick and his speech shaky with excitement.

“I dunno, I guess I just, um. Closed my eyes? Trusted you? And, _bam._ The ball hit my hand.” Hinata was staring at him, brows furrowed and speech slowly careful as if the idiot really did not understand what they’d just done.

“Hold on, let’s try it again.” Kageyama quickly ran next to Hinata and (probably pretty roughly) pulled him up and positioned him as Hinata yelped; adrenaline pumping in his veins rhythmically. 

He took a deep breath and re-traced every step, trying to figure out exactly when and how he’d set the ball; and yes, that was the perfect moment and he felt the power charge in his biceps and he pushed his fingertips and _oh shit_ the ball left his grasp way too early-

Hinata let out a soft _huh?_ when the ball fell to the ground while he was still high up in the air, and when he landed, he landed straight on the ball.

Kageyama watched, helplessly, as Hinata toppled to the ground with a few flips, and _hit his head to the side of the bench._

Kageyama’s blood ran _cold._

“Oh- oh, shit! Hinata, are you, shit, are you okay?!” _Oh no, no, no, no, no, no. No!_ Kageyama ran to where Hinata lay on the ground, crouching next to the small body which was limp and terrifyingly still. He tried to reach but didn’t know where, hands shaking with panic and _fuck what the fuck am I supposed to do?!_ “Oh my God, Hinata, say something, I swear to God-“

Kageyama’s speech cut suddenly when his ears caught small huffs of breaths flowing freely from Hinata’s mouth; first low in volume but then increasing and-

Were those fucking giggles?

The ginger’s eyes shot open; revealing beautiful amber and corners crinkled with a huge, dorky smile.

The asshole was laughing at his face.

“Ow,” Hinata winced but didn’t stop laughing when Kageyama punched his middle.

“You asshole. Stop laughing, it’s not funny. It was a pretty harsh fall.”

Suddenly, there were tears flowing down the crinkled corners of his eyes and Kageyama felt a second round of panic coarse through his veins, but was short-lived because _those were laughing tears, what the fuck._ “Oh my God, look how worried you got. You act all cool, but you’re just a nervous little shit, aren’t you.”

“…shut up.” Kageyama’s pulse started beating at his ears when almost half of his overall blood mass decided to pool on top of his cheekbones and neck for some reason. That is, until his eyes caught on some pleasant details on Hinata’s red face. “Oh, you’ve got freckles as well. You’re way too cute.”

“You shut up, my heart can’t take it anymore. Smooth bastard.” Small hands moved to hide his face, his chest still shaking with his continuous giggling. 

“So you like it?” Kageyama grinned. “Thank God, I thought I was hopeless.”

“Oh, you are. I’m just a sucker for compliments.” Hinata clarified, voice muffled from being hidden behind small palms.

“That’s good to know. You’re gorgeous, by the way.” His chest feeling bubbly warm, Kageyama couldn’t help but reach forward and run a gentle hand through fiery hair; expecting it to burn his hand to ashes but finding a soft glide of his fingers on silky, ginger strands.

(He’d gladly let himself burn to ashes.)

Hinata groaned, but did nothing about the hand tenderly playing with his hair. “Shut up before I spike straight to your face and break your nose.”

This time, Kageyama laughed, too.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ!!
> 
> Okay. I cannot even begin to explain how happy I am. The amount of overwhelming positivity the first chapter has received was over the roof, and I am not even kidding I CRIED OF HAPPINESS while reading every single one. Honestly, guys. YOU’RE THE BEST :'D
> 
> So I kind of got a little too excited and wrote the absolute shit out of the second chapter and ended up with a 15K WORDS OF A MONSTER, so I had to divide the chapter, not into a two, but a three!!
> 
> But as this chapter was planned to be the introduction part of the second chapter, it might come off as a little bit boring compared to the first chapter:( Please bear with me until I post the third chapter as the next chapter is the BEST ONE I'VE WRITTEN SO FAR!! 
> 
> So basically this is the first third of the second chapter, and I'll be posting the others soon!! Stay tuned, and again, thank you so much for the overwhelming positivity T-T
> 
> That being said, I love every single one of you SO MUCH, and hope you enjoy the second chapter!!
> 
> <3

That evening in the shower before his classes started, Kageyama thought about Hinata. 

Well, no shit, that much must’ve been obvious. As he has countlessly stated before, he is a man, and men have certain needs. 

Okay, it’s kind of gross when he puts it that way, but it does not change the fact that not even the cold water he made run down his shoulder blades and back could save him from his throbbing erection when he thought about what happened after the practice match. 

And, you see, that’s _exactly_ the problem.  


_Nothing_ happened between them besides a flirty conversation and a couple of tosses spiked. 

So why was Kageyama so riled up, trying to unravel the sexual frustration that had built up and locked his joints in place to the point where he could not dare to move his heavy limbs, turned his blood thick like lava and set the flame inside him roaring so loud Kageyama was afraid his guts had caught torturous fire?

Hell, why the fuck did he _like_ the feeling?

Was it masochistic pleasure? How could he possibly find the deadly incandescence coursing through his veins, slow and fiery, that could not get neutralised even by the cold water sprayed on his burning skin like drop after icy drop, so _delicious?_

Thrilling?

_Ecstatic._

It would certainly explain the sweat his skin was sticky with even during his supposedly refreshing shower. 

And his rapidly heaving, naked chest with how heavy each breath felt on their journey in and out his burning lungs; desperately crying for salvation. 

And, definitely the deep, primal groan that ripped itself out of the said lungs and through painfully clenched teeth when he finally surrendered to his internalised fight over relieving himself from this delicious pain (did he _want_ relief? would this form of supposed salvation actually grace him with relief or would it leave him even hungrier for more?), and reached down; wrapping a shaky fist around his ~~sweetly~~ agonisingly hard cock drooling all over the shower floor. 

He wanted Hinata so fucking much.

All of the fire in his system; the flashy hues of ruby blur behind his eyelids which were shut so tight; how the crimson heat radiating from his skin that almost felt like evaporated every single icy drop falling from the showerhead as soon as they got in slightest contact with his skin; they were all the same shade of torturous, reddish-orange. 

They were all because of him. 

_Fuck._

Kageyama slammed his forearm to the cold shower wall, leaning his head and weight against it as he watched the way his cock repeatedly disappeared in and out of his fist through heavy-lidded eyes.

He furiously fucked his hand as groans, pants, curses continuously poured out of his uncontrollable mouth, accompanied by the vivid images in his mind’s eye. 

He thought about slipping in him from behind, grabbing a handful of those thick, luscious thighs (which were probably so fucking soft, and only for him to grab) to spread them wider and would press his groin even closer, sharing heat, bodies almost stuck with no space for air between their flushed skin.

He’d grab his hips, fucking into him so nice and hard; and would reach forward to wrap a fist around fiery locks (which felt so painfully soft around his fingers when he played with his hair) to yank his hair back and listen to him mewl so prettily. Maybe he’d beg, sweet voice desperate to come so hard from a nice pounding or maybe he’d snarl a threatening challenge Kageyama;

_“Is this all you can do? Come on, fuck me like you mean it, asshole.”_

Kageyama whimpered; his brows furrowing, teeth clenching harder and hand working even faster.

Kageyama would stick his lips to the side of Hinata’s neck then, licking and graze the threat of his teeth and maybe even bite a bit; taste the sweet skin on his tongue only reserved for him to savour. Would pant into his hair and feel the sweaty locks tickle his nose, the sweet scent intoxicate his brain. 

“F-fuck…”

He wanted to slap his ass; watch the delicious fat and the hard muscle beneath shake and turn ruby, and the guy would most definitely clench harder around his thick cock as a response (with another loud, sweet moan of course) and Kageyama could bet he would be so fucking deliciously tight around him as he fucked him so fucking hard and fast and let a satisfied rumble leave his lips as Hinata’s voice got higher and higher in pitch as he got closer to his orgasm and _fuck_ Kageyama wanted him to come. 

He wanted to make Hinata feel good _so bad_.

He wanted him to come all around his cock and over the sheets or ground or whatever surface they were fucking on like animals. Kageyama wanted to feel the sharp clench of Hinata’s ass around his own length as the beautiful ginger rode through his orgasm so hard and Kageyama wanted him to _like it;_ wanted his eyes to roll back and him to shout and moan and scream his overwhelming pleasure because _fuck, Kageyama, you’re fucking me so good, you’re so fucking deep, making me feel so good, come on, please, fuck me, I want it, kiss me, bite me, pull my hair, come inside me, please Kageyama-_

“S-shit-!”

Kageyama felt his eyes roll back all the way to his skull with pure ecstasy; brows furrowing, face in a messed up grimace and a deep, loud groan tore itself apart from his chest as his hips gave final, harsh jerks and his cock twitched inside his rough grasp because _holy shit_ he was coming, he was coming _so fucking hard_ and all over his hand and there were stars in his vision and he physically felt all the fire that’d been haunting him finally unravel as he emptied himself to whatever surface. 

His shaky knees gave in and Kageyama’s back hit the wall, falling onto the wet shower floor and all over the dirty water but he couldn’t care less; he was panting, vision still blurry and he might be drooling because of how intense his orgasm was but fuck if he cared. 

He leaned his head back, eyes unfocused as he tried to catch his breath; now uncomfortably cold water still being sprayed on his skin from the showerhead and making his hair stick to his forehead and eyes.

_Fuck._

He… couldn’t help it.

Really. 

He swears, he fought. 

But even the strong, tall walls he lined all around his mind (perhaps to protect the outside?) weren’t enough to keep the sunshine away. 

(The sunshine really should shine on something else; the brick walls were way too ~~afraid~~ cold and stubborn for the golden rays to be wasted on.) 

He really, really thought (and desperately hoped) those feelings would fuck off after he relieved himself in the shower. The ones that almost burnt his skin away with an explosive combustion. But he didn’t feel like his body was slowly turning to ashes right now when he’s lying in his bed, waiting for his loud ass mind to shut the fuck up so he could sleep.

The feelings; they weren’t scorching with want and need and fiery desire like before but were so soft and sweet and heavy and slow and honestly _addicting._

Yes, that was the word. 

_Drugging his brain._

The pull he felt when he ached to experience a little more of that familiar heart stutter, stomach churn, the heat of blood all over his cheekbones. 

He sighed.

Don’t get the wrong idea. Kageyama Tobio doesn’t have crushes. 

But the thought of a small ginger and warm sunshine and a gigantic smile was the only line of thought that softly lulled him into a comfortable, warm sleep. 

Kageyama unavoidably observed Tsukishima’s every movement the next day at practice.

Not that the blonde was anything nice to look at, fuck no. It was just, after tossing to someone like Hinata (and enjoying it way too much), he couldn’t help but compare both of their styles. Habits. Sports ethics. So, he observed Tsukishima’s each and every reaction to different types of tosses. 

He was calculated. He didn’t leave any space for any doubt or risk. He knew when he hit the ball and knew where it would land. He was the complete opposite of the small ginger. 

Kageyama unavoidably compared both of their forms, too. 

Don’t get it wrong. He definitely wasn’t checking fucking Tsukishima out. But, objectively, as a setter, his eyes caught the way his spiker’s legs and thighs moved with each jump, spike and block. 

Tsukishima’s were.. manlier. Stronger. Yes, muscular all the same, but his lacked the luscious delicacy Hinata’s pretty thighs had. And because Tsukishima was this lanky fucking giraffe, his muscle definition was distributed equally all around his body. Unlike Hinata, who was so adorably tiny that all of the muscle had ben compressed to create this sexy little thing with thighs and an ass for days. 

Kageyama set the ball flying Tsukishima’s direction again and watched as Tsukishima hit the ball as hard as he could (at least, that’s what Kageyama hoped) with a satisfying _smack,_ completing their new quick attack. Kageyama frowned and glared at the bastard as the ball fell to the floor on the other side of the net and lost its momentum with three consecutive slaps. 

He had legs, didn’t he? Why the fuck wasn’t he using them?!

“Fucking jump, you bitch!” Kageyama snarled at Tsukishima, expressing his dissatisfaction. 

“Your intelligence quotient is so low it’s dragging me down, assfuck.” Tsukishima’s voice was blank, not even bothering to have a bite because, yes, he has, in fact, had enough of Kageyama’s bossy ass. It pissed Kageyama off to no extent. 

Kageyama harshly grabbed another ball from the cart next to him and raised his brows expectantly. “Oh, you want this ball up your ass? Is that right?”

“Guys!” Daichi called to them as he noticed them fighting again, deep voice manifesting warning. 

“No. You’re clearly retarded.” Tsukishima’s reply was deadpan, eyes narrowed and mocking. His irritated tone didn’t waver when he (surprisingly) added something useful, though. “If you want me to jump higher, set the ball higher, you imbecile. I can’t jump if there’s a ball thrown at the middle of my face in full speed.”

Kageyama gave a sharp nod of understanding. “Got it.” 

He threw the ball in his hand high in the air before positioning himself underneath it. He felt the roughness of the synthetic leather just barely grazing his fingertips with a feather-light touch, bending them, and then the ball was flying again and yes, his aim had been _perfect,_ and Kageyama watched Tsukishima expectantly as he watched the ball still spinning high in the air-

And just…watched. 

Kageyama watched _Tsukishima_ watching the ball as it fell to the ground with softer _slaps_ this time. Right next to an unmoving, blonde, lanky bastard.

Kageyama sputtered in confused anger. _Why the fuck did he just watch that perfect toss without moving a muscle?_ ”What the fuck?! It was high this time?!”

“Oh, the toss was perfect. I just didn’t feel like jumping. I’m tired,” Tsukishima shrugged, unbothered.

Kageyama charged to grab the bastard by his collar. “You son of a-“

“Alright, what’s going on?” Kageyama was so, so close to grabbing him by the collar and pinning him to the wall behind as Daichi stepped in between them, holding Kageyama in place. 

“Fucking assface over here started it! He’s not jumping!” Kageyama grumbled, pointing a sharp finger at Tsukishima and face still blazing with anger. 

“What do you mean I started it, you called me a bitch. You also threatened to shove the entire ball up my anus.” Tsukishima pointed out, smirking mockingly under his hand at the way Kageyama was complaining about him to Daichi as if a child would do to his dad about his brother. Kageyama grumbled again, calmer this time as he didn’t want to anger Daichi any further.

“Well, it sounds gross if you use the ‘a word’-“

“It’s fucking disgusting either way.”

Daichi sighed, rubbing his temples. “I sometimes wonder if you guys are actually, like, three years old. Grow up, okay?”

“Yes, sir,” they answered in unison.

Daichi gave them a last warning, tired glance before stepping away from between them. He called to the whole gymnasium.

“Practice is over for today until Tsukishima and Kageyama realise they’re grown men and not three years old. Thanks, everyone, except them.”

Kageyama scowled at Tsukishima -who was already glaring at him- and went to angrily pick up his water bottle before pressing the tip to his lips, relishing at the way the cool liquid swept through his dry throat. 

_This wouldn’t have happened if I had a spiker who actually jumps. Fucking dumbass._

He walked into the Karasuno changing rooms late after their volleyball practise the other day and into Nishinoya running around with nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs on.

“Um, what the fuck.” He paused at the door to take in the scene unfolding in front of his eyes before entering.

It was the usual locker room with everyone but Daichi there (which probably explained how Nishinoya could act like the fucking dumbass he is freely without any sort of consequence). He was shouting, animatedly trying to explain something to no-one in particular very exaggeratedly and _why the actual fuck was he running around without any article of clothing on besides underwear? What??_

Before Kageyama had a chance to say anything else to top off his exclamation, Nishinoya started shouting at him for no fucking reason. “Kageyama, get your head out of your ass and close the fucking door, can’t you see I’m naked?!”

“No offence, but you don’t really look like you give a shit about it, man.” He properly stepped into the room then, and shut the door behind him nonetheless. “What’s all this about, anyway?”

“Shouyou from Seijoh, man! I saw him the other day at the practice match. How can someone physically have an ass that nice bro. Like, what the fuck.” Nishinoya started explaining, voice overly enthusiastic and loud and Kageyama froze; felt it vividly when his blood ran cold.

_Shouyou? From Seijoh? Hinata?_

__

__

_My Hinata?_

(Okay, well, technically -and _definitely_ \- not _his_ Hinata, but it felt really fucking nice and satisfied him to no end to call him that in his head.)

He was about to snap at Nishinoya and pour his rage because _how did he have the audacity to mouth off about some (gorgeous) guy like that so disrespectfully_ (completely disregarding the fact that Kageyama himself had been furiously fucking his hand, shamelessly moaning and groaning at the thought of the said guy the night before), but then the fucking dumbass continued his explanation on why he was currently half-naked. 

“And then, obviously, I was like _‘I wanna have an ass like that’_ so I did, like, five hundred squats when I got home and right now I would fuck my own ass.” 

Kageyama paused. 

_Oh._

He let out a tired, mental sigh as realisation hit him like a goddamn bulldozer.

_What the fuck is wrong with me?_

Nishinoya turned around to emphasise his point, showing Kageyama his butt and Kageyama smirked at the idiot, all of the (unnecessary, ridiculous, embarrassing) tension leaving his frozen body when he realised why a) Nishinoya (quite uselessly) informed him about Hinata’s ass -which, still, bothered him to no extent for some reason- b) Nishinoya was half-naked and c) everyone in this room who just wanted to change out of their training clothes wore traumatised looks on their faces. 

There was no doubt that Nishinoya had tried to show off his butt to every single person in the room.

“Dude.” Suga warned, his usual soft, warm voice carrying tints of disapproval at what Nishinoya just said and specifically how ridiculously he worded it. 

Kageyama walked past Nishinoya and found his locker that had his stuff in, laughing. “You’re an idiot.” 

Just as Nishinoya was about to answer, the door flew open and Tanaka stormed inside the locker room, steps heavy like a fucking elephant and shouting illiterate sounds like _wooo!_ or _wassup!_ just to be loud. Kageyama glanced at Tsukishima to find him grimacing, and watched with entertainment as he pulled his headphones out and put them on. 

Nishinoya’s eyes widened. 

“Tanaka! Check this out, bro!” He bent over the nearest bench in front of Tanaka for him to appreciate his perked up butt high in the air.

Tanaka stopped and stared for a moment, eyes blank. Kageyama bit back another wave of laughter bubbling in his chest. 

“Bro, full homo, I highkey wanna fuck you right now,” he answered with utter genuineness, finally. 

“Dude!” Suga exclaimed, disapproving and shouting this time; eyes wide and glancing at Yamaguchi in panic as if to say _there are children in here!_

Nishinoya just grinned proudly and swayed his hips side to side. “I know, right?”

Tanaka and Nishinoya continued their ridiculous exchange, voices enthusiastic and dumb and way too fucking fascinated, as Kageyama lifted his training shirt to take it off. 

“Can I slap you, bro?”

“Go for it, bro.”

“Gotta work on your thighs,” Kageyama pointed out casually, still grinning at the idiocy unfolding before him while he grabbed a clean t-shirt to put it on. 

“Ow! Not that hard, Tanaka, you fuckin- wait what?” Nishinoya’s head perked up to where Kageyama’s voice called out to him. 

“If you wanna be like Hinata, I mean. Have you seen his thighs? Jesus.” He shook his head side to side to exaggerate his show of attraction, grinning wolfishly but then abruptly stopped himself. His face fell.

What the fuck was he doing?! He didn’t want fucking Noya or any of them to know about how pretty Hinata’s thighs were?! Why the fuck did he point them out?! 

Why did a sudden need to _show Hinata off_ overwhelm him?!

But Noya remained unfazed and instead his eyes doubled sizes comically in realisation. “Holy shit, you are so right. Ugh, damn it!”

“…Noya’s thighs are pretty nice,” Asahi murmured, head buried in his locker and shoulders raised to hide his face but Kageyama could clearly see how red his ears had become peeking through the long, dark strands of his hair. 

Nishinoya either ignored Asahi (ouch) or couldn’t hear him from his pulse beating at his ears with the sudden rush of adrenaline. He stood up, quickly, and grabbed (a still gawking) Tanaka’s arm, pulling him to sit next to him on the bench. “Tanaka, calm your dick and stop staring at my butt. C’mon, dude, you gotta help me find thigh workouts.” 

“On it.” Kageyama watched them in entertainment, his small, icy moment of panic melting into a warm liquid, then gas and evaporating from his body as Tanaka pulled his phone out. “I gotchu, this one’s my fave.”

“What do you mean your fave-“ Nishinoya leaned over his shoulder to curiously look at the screen of Tanaka’s phone. He stared for one, two, three seconds before pointing out, deep voice devoid of any hints of emotion. “Tanaka, dude, this is women’s.”

“….yeaaah?”

“Do I look like a fucking woman to you?!”

“Wait, are we not looking for something nice to look at?”

“Dude?!” Nishinoya huffed, unbelieving and offended, but then he looked like his light eyes caught something interesting on the screen of Tanaka’s phone. “No, wait, click on that one, the one with the big boobs…” 

Kageyama threw his jacket over his shoulders, finally done with changing, and walked over to Tsukishima who was waiting for him with his headphones on. 

“You coming?” Kageyama asked, knowing damn well that the lanky bastard could still hear with his headphones on and was being over-dramatic.

Tsukishima gave a sharp nod, once, and then followed Kageyama out of the locker room; shutting the old, wooden door behind with a sly creak and sighing with relief as the obnoxious shouting of Tanaka and Nishinoya greatly decreased in volume and blurred into the background of the soft evening breeze. 

They walked in silence then, as they always did after practice. Kageyama didn’t remember when or how this unexpected routine had formed into an essential part of both of their lives; soft and smooth like a refreshing sip of cold water down their throats after a dreadfully scorching day in the desert. The abrupt companionship had just appeared out of nowhere, probably because of the way both of the guys sought a company of silence and calm; one of when neither tried to fill the lull unnaturally with irritating, pointless small-talk. 

He didn’t think this could be called ‘friendship’. It felt more like a compulsory safe-room neither of them was opposed to. Hell, they might even be enjoying it. 

He would never admit it, but being around Tsukishima really was like a fresh breath of air; it always spared him a moment of peace to clear his complicated mind and try to disentangle the knots of his busy thoughts.

The companionship wasn’t what he wanted, but what he needed in his life. 

“Tsukki! Kageyama!” Kageyama gasped softly; the kind voice startling his mind deep in thought. He turned his neck to see the source of the voice calling for them.“Can I walk with you guys?”

“Yeah, sure,” he smiled -and hoped that he looked comforting rather than the terrifying image people seemed to have every time he smiled- at Yamaguchi’s shy eyes.

“Thanks.” Yamaguchi caught up with them, starting to walk the same pace next to Tsukishima.

After a moment of silence except for the soft crackles of their footsteps on the gravelly road, Yamaguchi cleared his throat. “So, why do you guys think we lost the other day?”

Kageyama heard a deep, sarcastic grunt coming from Tuskishima’s throat next to him.“Oh, it’s obvious. Kageyama wouldn’t stop staring at their middle blocker’s ass.”

“Hey, fuck you,” Kageyama replied. 

“Haha.” The gentle, soft sound of Yamaguchi’s giggle turned into something with an edge of self-conscious sadness for some reason Kageyama couldn’t quite decipher. “…I think it was because of my jump serves. I missed like, three times. Sorry.”

 _Oh._ Well, if he really needed honest feedback, then yes; his serves hadn’t been perfect.

“I mean, to be honest-“ Kageyama opened his mouth to inform him but was cut short mid-sentence.  


“You’re improving. It was a practice game. Don’t worry about it.” Tsukishima silenced him with a glare, one which Kageyama raised his eyebrows in surprised defence. 

The laugh that Yamaguchi breathed out was so painfully relieved, it made Kageyama’s heart sink. 

“Thank you, Tsukki, you’re so understanding.” 

Tuskishima didn’t look at him when he answered. “It’s the truth.”

Kageyama shut his mouth, narrowed his eyes in suspicion and glanced between the two. 

_Are they about to fuck right now?_ Kageyama really didn’t want to see that. At all.

So he cleared his throat and proposed an emergency evacuation route for himself.

“What’s the time?”

Yamaguchi’s long, elegant fingers reached for the pocket of his sweatshirt and pulled his phone out. “I’ll check, wait- it’s seven-thirty.”

“Yeah, I gotta go. My class is almost starting. I’ll see you guys-“ his eyes narrowed with curiosity when they caught some thin, strange objects fall out of Yamaguchi’s open sweatshirt pocket. “wait, Yamaguchi, why do you have a shit ton of band-aids with you?” 

“What? Oh! These?” Yamaguchi looked down to the ground and at the honestly ridiculous amount of band-aids splattered like white freckles on the grey gravel in surprise as if he hadn’t noticed them fall out of his pocket. He smiled and bent down to collect them in one quick grab.

“It’s, um, just in case, you know? I’ve been carrying some ever since Tsukki injured his fingers in the Shiratorizawa match.” He was explaining with a voice so neutrally happy as if that purest intention of his was second nature to him rather than one solely sourced from the soft feeling deep within his chest, nestled between his lungs. 

It surprised Kageyama.

How that simple, that small of an act could carry so much care and fondness. 

Kageyama couldn’t help but glance at Tsukishima out of curiosity. Seeking a reaction. He was greeted by his usual, stern face; eyes looking forward and devoid of any emotion other than boredom. But the irritation hidden beneath the fine lines constructing his face was absent. 

He didn’t look happy, not necessarily. More like the negatives that usually formed his face were absent but strangely enough, there weren’t any positives either. Like he was stuck at zero. 

Does that make sense? Probably not. Words don’t really go with numbers, after all. 

But for some weird reason, during those ten short seconds that barely lasted as Yamaguchi explained his ridiculous little band-aids, Tsukishima was that zero.

Not necessarily positive but considering how he always lived with the negatives, that simple zero -which symbolised literal nothing to most people- meant a _lot_ to Tsukishima. 

(It made Kageyama happy, too.)

“Do you want some?” Yamaguchi asked, voice still sweetly innocent like he had no idea what kind of deep, complex binary paradox he just threw Kageyama’s knotted mind into. 

“Um, yeah. Sure,” Kageyama sighed, tiredly, his chest weighing ten times heavier all of a sudden. The cold, crusty gravel crunched under his every step in the dark night. “Why not.”

He thought about Hinata the next day, too. 

And he didn’t jerk off! 

Really!

…Okay, yeah, who the fuck is he kidding -the sole thought of the little piece of sunshine was enough to get him furiously fucking his hand while trying to stifle his groans into the pillow wet with his sweat.

(Gross.)

But relieving himself definitely wasn’t what drove Kageyama to shut his eyes and imagine cute little honeyed eyes and a huge sunshine grin too big for the small, round face. 

It was the…warmth. The fuzziness. The churning of his stomach. The genuine smile that seemed to never leave his lips. Most of the time hidden beneath his pillow with his whole ass face buried into so deep that he couldn’t breathe; had to come out to gulp down huge breaths of oxygen into his compressed lungs. Only to dive back in again with an impatience he’d never seen from himself before. 

Suffocating himself with his own pillow, for fuck’s sake. 

Suffocating himself at the thought of him. 

Well. If this was how he goes, then he’d gladly trade his soul in exchange for a few more seconds of this dissociation out of this world and into his mind full of sunshine and ginger hair and freckles like stardust and jumping around a lot like an idiot and soft-looking thighs-

And then he’s stroking his dick again, thrusts hard and messy and the minute and a half after irresistible ecstasy when he comes all over his hand and abs he is always a hundred per cent sure that this is just hungry attraction. He just wants to get his dick wet. Fuck, he’s so fucking pathetic that he’s losing himself over a guy he’s only seen once. 

Asshole move, yes. But give him a fucking break. 

There could be no other explanation on how he went absolutely, ridiculously batshit over a guy he’s only seen for two hours maximum and didn’t even speak to him half the time. 

Yeah. That was more like it. He was just dreaming; exaggerating sexual attraction by overthinking that small half an hour after the practice match. Over and over and over again until he had memorised every single detail regarding their small conversation.

He just wanted to fuck. That was it. 

But then… he always realised…

(painfully so)  


That it just felt really, really _cold_ after he orgasmed. 

There was just a missing piece under his covers that made him feel so fucking lonely. And pathetic. 

So he always, always started to dream again.

(About tangerines and stardust and sunshine smiles that maybe, just maybe, might be the missing piece he’s been aching for.)

(Kageyama really doesn’t dare hope.)

 _No,_ he frowned to himself at another night, tucked in in his chilly bed and wishing his thoughts to shut the fuck up already. _That can’t be true._

Kageyama didn’t have crushes. 

…

He thought about Hinata the next day, too. 

And the day after. 

To be honest, it took him way too fucking long to realise that _shit, I think about him a lot._

(All the time, to be exact.)

His whole week passed with a single, irritating line of thought repeatedly playing in his mind’s eye over and over and over again. 

_Saturday afternoon._

Fuck. His palms had started to sweat already.

It was The Saturday Afternoon, at 1.03 pm to be exact. 

Forty-seven minutes until he met Hinata to be even more exact.

And Kageyama was about to fucking lose it. 

“Fuck! Oh my fucking god, just- fuck!” 

His angry (and a little desperate) growl filled his empty room, and with the intensity of it Kageyama was sure as fuck it would’ve broken the mirror in front of him (and the image of the half-naked man on it that was glaring at Kageyama) if the sound waves were solid.

Kageyama continued glaring at his reflection and threw the fourth sweatshirt he had tried on (and failed) to the ground in exhaustion, teeth clenched shut gritting with irritation.

He had been trying for at least an hour now and was getting more impatient (and terrifyingly panicked) with each passing second that neared the set time of his date.

 _Their date._ With Hinata. 

His heart gave a soft, excited flutter in his chest. 

He was going to see Hinata again.

And not the one in his dreams, either. The actual, goofy ginger. 

He tried to fight the stupidly gigantic smile stretching between his lips. He really did. 

He was a weak man, though. Not always. But for some reason…

For _him._

He sighed happily and ran a hand through his hair, his cheeks warm (and very uncharacteristically red in the mirror before his eyes). But then his frown darkened his features again as his eyes dropped lower to his very annoyingly naked chest, shoulders, arms, waist, thighs, shins, basically every fucking part of his body besides his dick (which could always easily change with one, careless thought about the small piece of sunshine he was about to meet so soon- 

_Well not if you can’t decide on what to wear, you fucking idiot!_

“Damn it!” 

He breathed in a shaky sigh again to calm his nerves, wiping the sweat layering thinly over the skin of his palms on his naked thighs.

He was so fucking nervous. 

Which was very unlike him. Since when was he a blushing virgin who couldn’t talk to attractive people without crying?

Never. That’s why he needed to get his shit together, calm the fuck down and pick a fucking outfit. 

He checked the electronic alarm clock resting calmly on his nightstand. 

1.15 pm. 

He needed to get his shit together, _fast._

He looked at his form on the mirror and swallowed the dry lump sunk at the back of his throat.

_C’mon, dude. You’ve got this. Everything’s fine._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _my physics teacher on the zoom call:_ this term is absolutely crucial for your end of year exams which are in less than two months so you are essentially expected to show your absolute best in class calls and direct your utmost attention to the teacher leading the conference
> 
>  _still her:_ AJ I don’t recall asking you to take notes, why can I hear keyboard typing noises from you? 
> 
> _me, who just finished writing how kageyama came all over his shower floor:_ um 
> 
> AAAHH I'M SO SORRY TO LEAVE YOU GUYS WITH A CLIFFHANGER LIKE THAT BUT I PROMISE THE NEXT CHAPTER IS FULL OF THEIR DATE AND WARMTH AND FUZZINNESS AND AWKWARD IDIOTS BEING IDIOTS 
> 
> again, thank you so much for reading!! please let me know what you think in the comments, there's nothing that makes me happier than reading them!
> 
> <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Are you even boyfriends if you don’t cuddle on the fire staircase? ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my favourite chapter so far :D <3

Everything was not fucking fine. 

He was late. He was late to his date.

Might as well just run himself over with a truck, too, while he was at it, honestly.

_Jesus Christ._

He was so fucking pissed at himself. 

What the hell was he thinking?! He should’ve just put on the first sweatshirt that his hand caught instead of spending a whole forty five minutes deciding what to wear. Because in the end, neither his attentive choice of outfit nor his efforts into making himself look as good as possible for Hinata mattered if Hinata thought he was stood up and left! 

Kageyama’s blood ran cold and throat dry. 

_Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no, no, no._

This was bad. 

He started running, heart beating at his ears and at his throat at the same time. 

He stopped his marathon when he finally reached the tall, glass door of the coffee shop they decided to meet in and spared a moment to catch his breath. He tried to swallow the dry lump in the back of his throat without tearing his whole oesophagus apart and reached a hand for the smooth, black doorknob but paused right before his shaky fingers met the metal when his eyes caught a very contrasting vibrance from the other side of the glass. He narrowed his eyes to see through the glass door better.

His heart skipped a beat when he noticed Hinata sitting on one of the empty seats, scrolling through his phone and absentmindedly chewing on a straw as he waited for Kageyama to arrive. 

Kageyama’s chest warmed with sweet relief.

He looked so cute. 

He hadn’t specifically done anything to himself -and certainly didn’t look like he spent almost forty-five minutes on what to wear unlike _someone_ \- with his overly-large Aoba Johsai bomber jacket ending low on his hips and some lazy shorts to top that off.

How could anyone look so effortlessly gorgeous? It really, really wasn’t fair. 

(On Kageyama’s poor, inexperienced heart.)

He let out a shaky sigh and wiped the sweat layered thinly on his palms to the thighs of his jeans. 

And, for a second or two, just… watched. 

He had no idea why he was so hesitant to go in. Hell, he probably looked like some sort of creep; eyeing the small ginger from the other side of the door. 

He was just so… nervous. And he wasn’t used to feeling that. 

He swallowed.  
He was used to being this smooth, calm, collected, handsome motherfucker and then when this small, ginger piece of sunshine with a blinding smile skipped steps into his life like a dork, he just…

 _Wasn’t,_ anymore. 

Kageyama sighed again, trying to collect himself. 

It wasn’t hard right?

Yeah. He was fine. 

He was going to grab the door handle, pull the door open, charmingly walk over to where Hinata was sitting and _hey, didn’t see you there. What’s up? ;)_

There was no way he could mess this up.

Yes. No big deal. Nope. Absolutely.

He ran a shaky hand through his hair, checking his reflection on the glass door as a final fix and grabbed the door handle again.

He was about to fulfil the first part of his plan when his cautious eyes spotted… someone.

Someone foreign. Approaching Hinata. 

He narrowed his eyes, leaning closer to the glass to see through it better.

It was a young man. A barista, judging by his dark green apron tied lazily over his neck and waist. He had a drink in his hand with so much foam and sugar that it made Kageyama want to gag. He grimaced. 

_Probably tastes like shit, too._

But then, his grimace darkened into a glare when he saw the way the man walked to where poor little innocent Hinata was sitting, and set the drink on his table. 

With a smile. 

And a wink. 

Kageyama’s jaw dropped.

_Since when did baristas bring your drink to you?!_

He pushed the door open (with probably more vigour than necessary) then, a deep frown sharpening his features aimed at the foreign barista who was saying something to Hinata. Kageyama watched from the distance, as Hinata’s cheeks coloured warmly and, shyly _giggled_ under his breath. 

Kageyama saw red. 

Who the fuck was this fucking guy, having the _audacity_ to flirt with _his_ fucking date right in front of Kageyama’s eyes?!

His steps quickened, approaching where Hinata was sitting and ready to fucking growl at this guy to piss off (or maybe even bite his whole neck of) until his angry eyes made eye contact with kind, molten chocolate ones. 

Hinata noticed him. 

Kageyama’s heart stopped entirely; the anger tensing his body fully forgotten when Hinata smiled at him; pearly white teeth peeking under pretty, pink lips stretched into a huge grin.

“Kageyama! Hi!” The little piece of sunshine ran over his table (leaving a delightfully dumbstruck barista gaping behind him in the process) and the next thing Kageyama felt was the welcoming, sweet warmth. 

Because there were arms wrapped around his neck, a small, warm body pressed flush to his and Kageyama physically felt it when his guts (and heart) melted into goo and mixed into his bloodstream. 

“Hey, what’s up?” He greeted the small ginger (who, Kageyama realised in delight, had to adorably rise on his tip-toes to hug Kageyama as a form of greeting) and glared at the dumbfounded fucking barista over Hinata’s shoulder. 

_Fuck off._

He pleasantly watched -and enjoyed Hinata’s sweet warmth he had longed for so long- as the barista did just that, and left them alone with sunken shoulders.

Kageyama had a smug look on his face -how could he not- when Hinata fell onto his heels again and smiled at him brightly. 

“I swear to God, I feel like we can’t stay still for ten seconds without someone hitting on you,” he mumbled under his breath while he sat down on the seat opposite of Hinata’s.

“Sorry, what was that?” Hinata leaned forward to hear him better. 

“Nothing,” Kageyama dismissed. He was definitely not planning on scaring the ginger away by his sudden, unexpected jealous tendencies the first minute into their date. Nope. 

But then, it kicked in. 

This was a date. 

_Oh, shit._

“So…” Kageyama cleared his throat, suddenly overly-aware of the thick, uncomfortable silence stretched between them and the way he was sitting and how awkward he sounded and _fuck, I bet he’s already bored, oh god._ “What’s up?”

“Not much, um,” Hinata’s answer carried a shy tint Kageyama hadn’t heard before as he shrugged. He desperately hoped it wasn’t because Hinata felt the uncomfortable awkwardness, too. “You?”

“Good.”

“Good.” 

“Yeah,” Kageyama swallowed uncomfortably and looked away. 

_Oh shit, oh no, the conversation’s over, what do I do-_

His panicked eyes spotted the milkshake-like drink resting pretentiously in front of Hinata’s crossed arms. _Potential conversation topic?_ “Um… what are you drinking?”

“What? Oh, caramel frappuccino.” Hinata smiled and kindly pushed the drink forward, closer to Kageyama with the back of his hand in offering. “You wanna try?”

“Sure, why not.” Kageyama reached and grabbed the offered drink. He sealed his lips over the green, straw which had weird, bumpy ridges around the tip from where Hinata had been absent-mindedly chewing on.

(That probably should’ve disgusted Kageyama, but weirdly enough, didn’t.) 

As soon as the sickly-sweet liquid met his awaiting tongue, he ripped the straw out of his mouth with a disgusted grimace. 

“That- that tastes like shit!” 

“What-no?! It’s so good!” Hinata argued before reaching forward and yanking his beloved drink our of Kageyama’s grasp. He put his mouth on the straw and sucked, scowling; drinking it just to despise Kageyama. 

Kageyama scoffed (and tried to ignore the way Hinata’s lips were sealed around where his own had been just a second ago). “How much sugar is in it?! Like, eight hundred pounds?!”

Hinata pouted. “I like sweet stuff, okay?!” 

“That’s not 'sweet stuff’. You’re sweet stuff. That’s literally diabetes in a cup.” Kageyama crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back, the hind of the chair supporting his weight.  


“That-! Me-?!I-!” Hinata sputtered, eyes wide and warm cheeks tinting a sweet pink before groaning defeatedly.“You’re so good at this!”

“Good at what?” Kageyama raised an eyebrow in question.

“Flirting! Being confident!” Hinata bit back.

“What are you shouting at me for?!” Kageyama raised both of his hands with the palms facing Hinata defensively.

Hinata huffed then, retreating and crossing his own arms over his chest. He pouted, (adorably) glaring at Kageyama. “I’m pissed at you.”

“Because…I flirted with you?” Kageyama snorted.

“No, because you’re good at it.” Hinata was still pouting offendedly.

“Oh.” Kageyama didn’t know what else to say, so he just stared at Hinata blankly.

“Yeah.” 

Kageyama let a mischievous smirk stretch his lips, then. “…you know what else I’m good at?”

“Oh Gosh,” Hinata made a weird grimace, as if he was getting ready for some sort of impact. “What is it?”

“Volleyball, duh. What did you think I was going to say?” Kageyama replied, impassive. 

“Bad stuff.” Hinata shot his eyes wide in ridiculous terror. “Like, can’t-say-it-while-my-grandma’s-in-the-same-room kinda stuff.” 

“Um… inappropriate?” Kageyama suggested.

“Yes! That’s the word.” 

Kageyama couldn’t help the happy laugh that bubbled up in his chest, then. “You’re a dumbass.” 

“No, _you’re_ a dumbass,” Hinata argued, ridiculously stubborn.

“…you know what, that’s true. I’m a fucking idiot,” Kageyama admitted, still laughing. 

“Me too,” Hinata started giggling, too. 

For a moment they just laughed together. It was… nice. Warm. 

Comfortable. 

And, Kageyama only then realised, that he had missed Hinata. Even though it had hardly been a week. 

Missed his comforting, warm (and adorably dumb) company. 

Kageyama noticed when Hinata’s warm eyes looked like they caught on something as his laughter died off. He trailed the invisible line of sight with his own eyes, and-

Kageyama raised an eyebrow at him. “Why are you staring at my hands?”

“Wh-what?! I-I’m not! I just- um.” Hinata quickly redirected his eyes, face now a few shades pinker in hue (which, needless to say, Kageyama found extremely attractive). He looked like he was about to continue denial, but then probably realised he’d been caught. He sighed, defeated. “How are your nails so…even and neat?”

Kageyama answered honestly. “Oh. I file my nails every day before bed.”

Hinata stared at him with blank, unbelieving eyes.

He opened his mouth, and deadpanned:

“What.”

“It’s important, affects the angle the ball leaves my fingertips.” Kageyama frowned at Hinata’s still gaping face, confused at his odd reaction. He shrugged. “You wouldn’t really know I guess, you greatly lack common human sense; let alone practical sports thinking.” 

But then, Hinata’s chest started shaking. 

His smile widened.

Molten chocolate eyes crinkled in the corners.

Hinata was _laughing._

At first, Kageyama thought it was because of his sarcastic remark at the end. But Hinata started laughing harder each passing second, eyes crinkling and one arm holding his stomach, and Kageyama realised it had to be something else. 

He can’t really make jokes that funny, unfortunately. 

So, he shifted in his seat (a little self-consciously) and asked. “What’s so funny?”

Hinata tried to calm himself down to answer, but every time he opened his mouth, a fresh wave of giggles poured out of his smiling lips. 

(It was a pretty sight.)

When he finally caught his breath enough to keep his mouth open more than two seconds without dying of laughter, he started speaking.

“I dunno, it’s just-“ Hinata was smiling; voice shaky, and drowned into another fit of giggles. “Y-you’re this big, tall, strong dude and just imagining you sitting on your bed every night to file your nails with this little nail filer in your big hands- I just- I just can’t-”

He started laughing again. 

_Wait._

Kageyama narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

Was Hinata laughing at _him?_ Just because he filed his nails on the daily? 

Kageyama didn’t like that. At all. 

So, he dropped the tone of his voice a few pitches lower and leaned forward for Hinata to hear the quiet rumble. “Would you rather I do something else with my hands?” His eyelids dropped heavily as he looked at Hinata under his lashes. “At night.” He got closer. “On my bed.”

Hinata stopped laughing immediately. He squeaked; cheeks now blazing red and eyes wide.  


“N-No! I’m sorry!”  


Kageyama smirked. _That’s what I thought._

“Let me see yours, then,” he demanded, leaning back again and crossing his arms over his chest comfortably.

“W-what?” Hinata’s brows furrowed in surprise and Kageyama didn’t miss the way he slowly slid his hands under the table to rest on his lap, hiding them.  


Kageyama clarified. “Dude, you’ve been staring at my hands since, like, I arrived. So, I think I deserve to check yours out, too.” 

Hinata’s timid mumble was so quiet that Kageyama almost couldn’t hear it. He didn’t look at Kageyama as he spoke. “…mine aren’t as pretty as yours.”

Kageyama frowned and was about to push deeper into why Hinata was acting so shy all of a sudden when a certain word grabbed his attention. 

“Wait, did you just say ‘pretty?’” Kageyama gawked at Hinata’s red face, grinning unbelievingly. “You like my hands? Are you serious?”

Hinata groaned, embarrassed, and buried his face into his hands (which were half-covered to his palms by the sleeves of his over-sized bomber jacket). “Oh my God, can we please change the topic.”  


“Hell no. You’re explaining me your weird hand kink.” Kageyama knew it was quite cruel of him to tease Hinata like this, but he just couldn’t help it; the pretty shade of pink stretching all over his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose, contrasting the stardust freckles was way too alluring for him to stop.  


Hinata pinked even more at that, scowling. It was adorable. “Wh- It’s not ‘weird’! Can I please not?!” His embarrassment was manifested in his voice as a distressed whine.

Kageyama smirked again. “Nope.”

“Yes. C’mon, let’s go.” Kageyama watched, surprised, as Hinata slammed his diabetes-in-a-cup on the table with finality (spilling the rest of the sugary-foam in milky droplets all over the wood in the process) and stood up on his feet. He harshly grabbed Kageyama’s arm and tried to yank him to his feet, too.

He couldn’t really succeed, though, so Kageyama stood up, still surprised and confused. “Wait-what? Where?”

Hinata just smiled at him, eyes glinting mischievously.

“I wanna show you something.”

And then, he started running out of the coffee shop and into the shopping centre, leaving a stunned Kageyama behind. 

Kageyama watched his form shrinking to the distance with huge, unbelieving eyes before pulling himself together and starting to run as fast as he could to keep up with him. 

He called from behind him, panting. “Wait for me!”

-

They were running. 

From what, or why, or even _where,_ Kageyama had no clue. Not a single one. 

Nonetheless, he let himself get dragged from his arm by an overly-energetic Hinata running in front of him to god knows where. 

Because he was laughing; mysterious adrenaline giving a high to his brain and making his pulse beat at his ears excitedly. 

Both of them were laughing, actually.

And it was nice. 

…well, until Hinata took a sharp left (nearly making Kageyama topple over and crash into the wall next to them with the force of it) and lead both of them to a weird, grey corridor and harshly pushed a metal door open with his left shoulder. Still laughing. 

Kageyama wasn’t anymore. 

Kageyama’s panicked, wide eyes barely spotted a green EMERGENCY FIRE STAIRCASE sign before it blurred and flew away from the corner of his eyes with how fast Hinata was making them run. 

“Hinata! I swear to god, we’re gonna get fucking arrested-“ Kageyama panted as Hinata dragged him into climbing the indoor stairs to the second floor. 

“Don’t tell me you’re scared!” Hinata laughed breathily with that sweet, melodic voice that turned Kageyama’s heart into goo again. The small, warm hand dragging his tightened around Kageyama’s much bigger one. “Don’t worry ‘yama, I can hold your hand if you’re too scared- AH!”  


With a sharp jerk, both of them fell to the stairs. Hinata first, and Kageyama after with how harshly he was dragged. 

Even though Kageyama was stunned by the sudden fall, he luckily stopped himself from collapsing right on top of Hinata with an instinctually quick arm supporting his weight.

He quickly pulled himself together when he glanced down and saw the pained expression messing up Hinata’s pretty features.  


“Oh my God! Are you okay?!” He stood up on his knees, now kneeling next to Hinata’s form who was sitting on one of the stairs with his left leg stretched before him. The knee was crimson. 

“Ow.” Hinata repositioned his leg so that his knee was on clear and this allowed Kageyama to see the really nasty cut stretching all the way through his right kneecap. 

Panic rose all through Kageyama’s throat like bile. _Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!_ “It’s bleeding, shit, I, oh my God, wait- I’ll just-“ He sputtered in panic while Hinata looked up at him with those pretty, glossy eyes and _fuck this is definitely not the time to get turned on._

He tried to reach for him but didn’t know how or whether if he should in the first place and he had to do _something_ but didn’t know what-

But then, his eyes shot wide with remembrance. 

Kageyama shakily ~~pawed~~ reached for the pocket of his jeans to find the band-aids he got from Yamaguchi a couple of days ago. 

He reached for Hinata’s injured leg as Hinata looked at him with curious, wet eyes and Kageyama desperately hoped Hinata didn’t see the way he struggled with ripping the band-aid open with how shaky his fingers were. He positioned the band carefully over the wound. 

When Hinata didn’t say anything and an uncomfortable silence filled the air between them; thick and dense like translucent concrete, Kageyama (tried not to feel too self-conscious with what he was doing) cleared his throat to scold Hinata. “You’re an idiot, you should be more careful!”

Hinata didn’t reply, just continued staring softly at him with those big eyes but hissed through his teeth when Kageyama’s fingers brushed over the cut lightly. Kageyama’s heart sunk. 

“Does it hurt? I’m so sorry, tell me if it hurts.” He lightly pressed on the band-aid with his thumb to secure it. “Done.”

When he finally looked up to Hinata and met his eyes, Hinata had a funny, teasing look on his face. “Do you just casually carry band-aids around with you?” 

“I, uh…” Kageyama really didn’t feel like explaining why he accepted some random ass band-aids from Yamaguchi which would lead to who Yamaguchi was and Kageyama really couldn’t bother, so he just let out a defeated sigh.“Yes.” 

Hinata laughed sweetly, and naturally, pulled out one to reciprocate from Kageyama’s own lungs. Kageyama stood up, cheeks warm, but then paused, surprised when he felt Hinata grab at the cuffs of his jeans. He raised a brow. “What are you doing?” 

Kageyama suddenly felt this strong, sudden urge to kiss the adorable pout away from those lush, pink lips when he looked into those doe eyes looking up at him.

_Wait, what the hell?!_

Hinata pulled on his right cuff again, voice so stupidly (adorably) whiny.“I can’t walk, you can’t leave me here!”

Kageyama snorted, reaching down to lend a hand to Hinata. “Wasn’t going to, you dumbass, let me help you get up-“

In a split second, he was pulled on top of Hinata for the second time by the hand he had held out for Hinata to stand up. 

“Woah! What the fuck?!” Kageyama exclaimed as he was forced to crash his whole weight on the much smaller body below him and _whoa whoa whoa WHOA_ their bodies were pressed flush against each other and Kageyama really, really should pull himself together and peel his body away from the very inviting, sweet warmness beneath-

Hinata giggled right against Kageyama’s chest; soft rumbles and warm breath washing over exactly where Kageyama’s heart was. “I can’t walk. We’re staying here.”

Hinata’s fists tightened on the chest of Kageyama’s sweatshirt to emphasise his point, and Kageyama gulped anxiously because he could feel -and was overly aware of- the sweet warmth radiating from Hinata and the small, cute little fists on his chest and _oh fuck I am definitely going to mess this up._

“What- are we seriously gonna sit on the fire staircase?!” He shrieked with his voice annoyingly high, so very uncharacteristically and uncool and _fucking pull yourself together, man, what the hell are you doing?!_

Hinata’s voice was like a purr coming from beneath him, accompanied by a sly, flirtatious smile. It made Kageyama’s palms -which were flush on the cold asphalt of the staircase to support his weight- sweat. “Why not? It’s private. No one uses this.”

Kageyama gulped, face ablaze and trying to look at anywhere other than Hinata’s cute little face looking up at him from where he was snuggled beneath him because if he dared to peek, he would _lose it._ He finally collected all of his willpower and peeled himself from on top of the small ginger, only to sit next to him (with a considerable amount of distance between them as much as he could in this tiny, indoors staircase, of course).

For some reason his dumb fucking mouth wouldn’t shut up and Kageyama continued his blethering after wiping the sweat off his palms to his thighs. “What if we get caught? What if this place burns down and people try to escape but we’re preventing them and _oh my God!”_ He looked at Hinata with unbelieving, wide eyes.“What if the _children_ in the arcade _die_ because of us?!“

Hinata laughed (and obviously turned Kageyama’s guts into warm goo while doing it). He jumped in surprise when the ginger closed the distance between them (which Kageyama had put so cautiously), and rested his head on Kageyama’s shoulder. “You’re so ridiculous.” 

Kageyama’s breath caught in his throat, his heartbeat pulsing at his ears as Hinata _snuggled next to him._

Kageyama barely held himself back from screaming his lungs off with panic.

Hinata was so, so warm.

“Why are you so tense? Relax.” Hinata giggled, snaking a hand through Kageyama’s arm to gently hold his bicep. Kageyama unavoidably tensed even more as a result of the intimate action.

Kageyama wanted to scold Hinata for stating the obvious.

_Easy for you to say._

But then, realisation hit him like a goddamn truck.

 _Oh, shit._

Hinata was sitting next to him. 

Hinata, who Kageyama had been dreaming of throughout this week and never seemed to leave his mind. 

Snuggling into him. 

His cheek resting on Kageyama’s shoulder. 

His small, warm hand grabbing his bicep.

His breathing coming out in soft huffs, voice a soft rumble that seemed to vibrate Kageyama to his very soul every time he opened that pretty mouth from how close their proximity was. 

He was so, so, so warm and smelled so, so, so sweet and warm and _oh shit, oh God, oh no_ Kageyama sure as hell was going to fuck this all up because it was _way too much_ physical contact _way too fast_ -

Kageyama awkwardly cleared his throat to shut his internal panic down. He decided to change the subject. “How’s your knee?”

Hinata’s head perked up to face Kageyama, soft brows furrowed in confusion and cheek still pressed to his shoulder. _Can he please stop being so damn cute?_ “What about it?”  


“It hurt and you couldn’t stand up? That’s the reason we’re stuck here, you know.” Kageyama decided to spare a single glance at his face, slowly; easing himself to the warm beauty that was currently snuggled next to him. Almost like when the sea is too cold in the summer and Kageyama’s got nothing to do besides getting in one limb at a time, easing himself so that his ass doesn’t freeze. 

But, Kageyama realised with pleasant irony, this time, instead of the chill, it was sweet, sweet warmth. 

(One which Kageyama was too afraid to ravage at once.)

This small moment of eye contact allowed him to catch the surprised look on Hinata’s face. “Oh! Right! I mean- ow, it hurts.” 

As well as the very obviously fake pain, as if he just realised his knees should be hurting. Kageyama couldn’t help but laugh at the idiot. 

He felt Hinata sigh softly (happily?), cuddling deeper into his arm and side. “Your laugh is so nice.”

“Oh. Um.” Kageyama’s cheeks warmed and he tried to swallow the dry lump like sandpaper that never seemed to leave the back of his throat. He wet his lips before ~~squeaking out~~ speaking. “…thanks?”

Hinata hummed his approval. “You should laugh more.”

“Okay.” Kageyama’s agreement was instant; hell, he doubted he could, ever, find the power in himself to say ‘no' to the small piece of sunshine next to him. He paused, though, suddenly unsure if Hinata was expecting something from him. “Um…like, right now?”

“No, obviously _not_ right now, you big dork. I meant, like, generally,” Hinata laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling again with his entertainment. 

"Right. Obviously.” Kageyama sighed and swore under his breath, rubbing his face in embarrassment. _Obviously, you fucking idiot._

“You make me nervous,” he admitted, voice muffled from hiding under his palms.

Hinata giggled warmly again and reached for Kageyama’s hands hiding his face. “Yeah, I noticed.” 

Kageyama’s heart stopped when Hinata’s warm, little fingers curled around his own to peel his palms from his face. 

“You did?” Kageyama’s voice was barely above a whisper, way too vulnerable for his liking and his stomach did a couple of backflips again. “Fuck,” he laughed, breathily, and leaned his head back to the cool wall behind them to face the ceiling. “I don’t want you to notice.”

“Why?” Hinata asked, rubbing his cheek softly from where it rested on Kageyama’s shoulder. “Let me tell you, I’m just as nervous as you are.” 

Kageyama snorted, unbelieving. There was no way Mr Gorgeous Sunshine over there was even close to how much of a mess Kageyama was. “Bullshit.”

“I’m serious. Look.” And then, shyly, a small hand was raised for Kageyama to see. The short, soft-looking fingers were shaking ever so slightly. That’s probably what Kageyama was supposed to notice, anyway. 

But Kageyama wasn’t looking at any of that. 

Hinata had been wrong. 

His hands were way, way prettier than Kageyama’s rough, messily large ones. 

They were… delicate. Soft, small palms that lacked any sort of imperfection -not even a single callus- were connecting elegant fingers. The milky skin was way too smooth and graceful and… _pretty_ that Kageyama wondered, _who on Earth allowed this beautiful of a person to play volleyball?!_

Kageyama had seen a lot of spikers in his life. And a spiker’s hands were never like that. 

They were never this elegant. 

But now that hand was getting closer to his own hand and Kageyama couldn’t do anything but stare because he was too awed to break free from his dazed intoxication. So, he just watched.

Watched as the small hand made contact with his own, and, shyly, held it.

It was not an intimate hand-holding; not the ones with all the finger locking and palms stuck to each other and no-one knows whose sweat is which. Hinata just basically hooked his small fingers around Kageyama’s palm which made the softer one look so, so small in comparison and Kageyama came to two realisations at once. 

One; the hands _were_ calloused. Tiny, rough bumps where each finger met the palm.

(They were unmistakable proof of the past; the effort, the sleepless nights, the sweat, the exhaustion.) 

Two; Hinata’s hands were beautiful. 

“It’s…kind of nice, though.” Kageyama bent his neck to curiously look at Hinata then when he continued, only to find him looking away with a shy smile. “I like how my stomach feels when I’m with to you.” 

Suddenly, Hinata’s eyes did that thing again where they doubled- no, _tripled_ in size and the prettiest, most alluring shade of pink tinted on top of his cheekbones and all the way through the bridge of his small, pointy nose. He shook his hands in front of him in panic. “Wait, no, that was so weird, that’s not what I meant, I-!“

“No, no, I get it,” Kageyama interrupted his sudden panic with complete genuineness, silencing him. His voice was soft but carried the tiniest tints of vulnerable hesitancy. “I totally get it.” _Me too._

Hinata’s eyes were so, so soft and unsure and exactly the same as Kageyama’s voice when he looked up at him in question. “You do?”

“Shit…” Kageyama laughed, disbelieving himself. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

So, slowly, hesitantly, he rested his cheek on top of messy curls so carefully because Kageyama was afraid he might break and disappear into thin air if he wasn’t gentle enough (which one of them, that he wasn’t sure) and let his nose tangle underneath the fiery, soft strands; inhaling the sweet, warm scent radiating from them.

He’s smoked before (a couple of times during parties), but none of the drugs seemed to have this much of an effect on him. So, he inhaled again; trying to fill his lungs with this intoxicating sweetness as much as he could. 

Because, in the end, Hinata wasn’t his. This was merely a stolen moment of fuzzy, ecstatic infinity which Kageyama wasn’t even worthy of. 

But maybe, just _maybe_ -

 _I like the way my stomach feels when I’m with you_.

That tiny, vulnerable flutter of hope warmed deep within Kageyama’s chest. 

“…are you sniffing me?”

“What?! NO! I’m not, I just-“ Kageyama ripped his nose away from Hinata’s curls, eyes wide and blushing furiously because _fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK I look like such a creep right now, congratulations, I finally fucked up, I need to change the subject, fast-_

So he blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. “I fucking hate Oikawa.”

Hinata tilted his head to the side with visible confusion, frowning with those pretty, auburn brows. Kageyama wanted to kiss the crinkled space between them. “What? Where did that come from?”

Kageyama shrugged and continued explaining. “I dunno. I just hate him. Have I ever told you that I always imagine myself punching his fucking face so fucking hard and breaking his nose every time I see him?” 

“Um…no?” Hinata seemed to force an awkward chuckle, one that made Kageyama want to smash his own head to the wall behind him. 

“Well, I do.” He mumbled self-consciously and sunk in himself instead, cheeks ablaze with how much he regretted blurting out that very embarrassing too-much-information.

Hinata laughed sweetly again, regardless, and Kageyama felt a little less like shit with it. 

Kageyama froze again when a single small hand reached to his forehead, and very carefully, brushed a raven strand off. 

Kageyama’s heart stopped working and throat went dry and brain short-circuited when that hand stayed there and continued to ~~brush the distress away from him~~ gently play with his hair. 

“Trust me, he’s really not that bad. He’s kind of arrogant, but actually sweet, sort of.” Kageyama couldn’t even concentrate on what he was saying from those gentle fingers repeatedly tangling, untangling and curling themselves from strands of his hair; his skin so close that Kageyama swore he could feel the warmth radiating from it and he was so, so close to melting into a puddle and his eyelids started to weigh more and more because _holy shit_ he didn’t remember feeling this relaxed and fond in his life-

“Yeah, right. _Sort of,_ ” Kageyama scoffed (a little breathier than he would’ve liked) when he realised Hinata was waiting for an answer. _I can kind of see why he’s sweet to you. Fucking asshole._ “I can’t, ever, associate anything sweet with him. More like, um,” he paused to think about a suitable insult before deciding on the most accurate one, “garbage.” He grimaced as if he had just smelled something really nasty.  


Hinata’s soft, pink lips stretched across his round cheeks in entertainment again. “Did you just imply he smells like literal garbage?”

Kageyama grinned and shook his head side to side in disapproval (while also careful not to shake the warm hand flush on his temple off). “Nah, he probably smells like the blue Axe and cheap weed.”

HInata answered; small chest still shaking with his soft laughter. “Not really, actually. He smells like designer cologne.”

Kageyama was laughing too until it faded off. He frowned. “…why do you know how he smells like?”

“I know how everyone smells like,” Hinata stated with a blank voice, as if it was obvious.

Kageyama let out an unbelieving snort, saying _yeah, right._ “How do I smell like, then?”

“…good,” Hinata murmured after a second of thought, breathing in from where his face was buried into Kageyama’s arm. “Really, really good.” He took in a generous breath again, voice becoming breathier and softer and- dazed? “And warm…”  


Kageyama raised a brow. 

“I mean-!” Hinata ripped his face away quickly, pulling himself together with his cheeks warm. “You smell like, um, sweat.” He paused, and then, helpfully, added to inform Kageyama: “Gross.”

Kageyama sputtered. “That’s bullshit- wait, really?” He pulled away from Hinata, detangling their arms to smell his own underarms because _oh shit, oh God,_ if he forgot to put deodorant on he literally might as well _die_ this instant-

But before he could push himself away from him, Hinata quickly grabbed his retreated arm; not allowing him to get away and his own eyes widened; seeming to surprise even himself. A panicked, squeaky voice exclaimed, hurriedly. “No, you don’t! I was, um, joking.”

Kageyama frowned in confusion, not completely convinced. “…why?”

Hinata whined helplessly and buried his face into Kageyama’s shoulder again.“Do I look like I know?! Can we please change the subject?”

Kageyama laughed. 

-

Remember when Kageyama said that he didn’t think entity’s existence continued to flow cruelly fast once he stepped foot into the gymnasium?

Yeah. They weren’t in the gymnasium right now. 

But, nonetheless, time seemed to pack its shit and leave them alone in the staircase, too. 

Maybe the location wasn’t what time depended on, but a person.

That’s what Kageyama was thinking about when he and Hinata walked down through the staircase and out of the mall, pausing once they pushed the huge, glass doors open and stepped foot out into the exterior bathed in warm, sunset hues. 

They stopped, catching their breaths and Kageyama once again felt like drowning inside soft, amber eyes. 

Hinata licked his lips before speaking, voice the softest it’s been the entire day. 

“It’s gotten pretty late.”  


Kageyama nodded. “Yeah.”

“It was… nice today.” Hinata looked so… _beautiful_ with all of the sunset’s warm lights reflected on his soft, pretty features that for a second, Kageyama forgot how to speak. “Let’s hang out some other time.”

Kageyama swallowed, burying his sweaty hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt. “Y-yeah.” 

Hinata lowered his eyes down, now looking at the ground. “I better… go. Before the sun sets completely and, you know, it becomes all dark and scary.” 

Kageyama couldn’t help but tease him with a smile. “You’re scared of the dark?”

__

“No. Shut up. I’m leaving.” With that, he quickly turned around to leave, and Kageyama-

__

He felt like a part of him was leaving, too.

__

So he quickly raised a (little panicked) hand to grab him by the wrist, laughing breathily.

__

“Wait.”

__

Hinata turned his head to face him, ruby curls bouncing in the process. 

__

_Stay. Just a little longer._

____

____

_That’s all I can have, anyway._

__

Kageyama walked to get closer to him and reached for the zipper of his (honestly ridiculously large) bomber jacket. “It’s gotten cold. You’re gonna get sick.” He gently zipped it up, careful that the end of the zipper didn’t scratch Hinata’s chin. He smiled at the way those huge, brown eyes looked up at him. “And get yourself a smaller jacket, you look like you’re drowning in this one.”

“What…?” Hinata asked, voice so soft and confused before comprehension flashed on his eyes. “Oh! This isn’t mine, haha. I lost mine, like, three days ago." 

__

Kageyama paused, his fingers turning cold from where they still rested beneath Hinata’s chin and held the metal zipper. 

__

He asked, slowly, cautiously. “Whose is it?”

__

“I dunno, I left it in my locker and the next day it wasn’t- wait, what? Why do you want to know?” Hinata’s voice was so cheerfully innocent and Kageyama almost held his breath with apprehension as he asked again, more seriously this time.

__

“Whose is it, Hinata.”

__

Hinata furrowed his brows before he answered, clearly not understanding why that small detail was so important. “ _Oikawa_ gave it to me today after practice, because it was cold. Why do you care?”

__

Why does he care?

__

_He smells like designer cologne._

__

“Wow.” Kageyama ripped his hands from beneath Hinata’s chin so quickly as if his fingertips had caught fire and laughed; cold and cruel, nothing like he’s laughed throughout the day. “I can’t believe you.”

__

Hinata’s brows furrowed deeper with worry and even deeper confusion. “…what are you talking about?”

__

Kageyama shook his head side to side, disbelieving. He turned around to leave. “I can’t believe I just fucking zipped it up for you-“

__

He felt a small hand grabbing his arm to stop him. “W-wait, Kageyama! Tell me what’s wrong-“

__

“Go back to Oikawa, okay?! I had fun today and thank you for not rejecting me that instant in the gym. Thank you for making me feel so happy today, I-“ he cut himself because if he didn’t the emotions would overwhelm him and what he needed was to get the fuck out of here, fast, and get in the safeness of his bed before his stern walls wore off. “Goodbye.”

__

“No, Kageyama!” Hinata reached again, jerking his arm harshly to get Kageyama to look at him. His voice was high as he sputtered. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

__

“Who the fuck shows up to a date wearing another man’s jacket?!” He finally snapped, voice full of fury and rage and desperate betrayal. His heart ached at the way Hinata was startled by the volume of his voice. “After all the stuff you told me- I- I thought-“ _I thought I had a chance,_ he thought, bitterly, as his voice started shaking. “You played with my hair! I-“ _Shut up, shut up, shut the fuck up._

__

Hinata shouted at him back. “What- this isn’t a date!”

__

Kageyama’s heart stopped beating. 

__

Turned into ice. 

__

And shattered into pieces like chilly sawdust. 

__

(He hoped Hinata couldn’t hear the deafening disjunction in his chest.)

__

Hinata’s eyes widened, seeming to realise what he just said. “NO! I- I mean- I’m sorry- Kageyama! Please, wait!” Small hands tried to reach for Kageyama again but stopped when Kageyama roughly jerked away.

__

And those icy pieces turned into freezing knives to tear all of his insides apart. 

__

“Go fuck yourself, Hinata.” 

__

And then, he left.

__

(With no heart and messed up guts and his skull weighing a thousand pounds.)

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT (23 Jul 2020): I will be updating this fic in around 4-5 days or so! Sorry for the delay and thank you so much for your patience!
> 
> Stay safe <3 xx


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